


the eventual corruption of my body

by nasa



Series: a deal with the devil [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Choose Your Own Adventure, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, if you pick that, unhappy ending also available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 13:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasa/pseuds/nasa
Summary: Steve wants Tony back, so he makes a deal with Death. If that deal has him dying in exactly a year's time - well, that's a price Steve's willing to pay.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> this is a choose your own adventure story. there are two endings, unhappy and happy - Chapter 2 is the happy ending, Chapter 3 is the unhappy one. you decide.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main story.

Death visits him five days after Tony returns.

He’s sitting on a bench a few miles from the cabin, nestled off the running trails that cross the property. It’s been his place for several years, now; nobody has ever come here except for him, save Morgan, once, when she insisted on rollerblading alongside her Uncle Steve while he ran. She had made it farther than Steve had expected, seven and just as determined as her father had always been, but she had crashed a few hundred feet from the bench, tripped over a tree root. Steve had carried her there while she cried, and by the time they sat down the tears had stopped; she was like her father in that sense, too.

“Was it as satisfying as you had hoped?”

The figure appears out of nowhere, but Steve doesn’t startle. He had been expecting a visit; it’s half the reason he came out here, so nobody would see the interaction, nobody would know.

Steve considers the question a moment. “For me? Seeing him again? Yes. For him -“ Pepper had screamed when she saw him; Happy had cried; Morgan had gone very still for a very long moment and not said anything at all. Steve wishes he could say he can’t imagine what it was like for Tony to get that response, but he has all too good an idea.

“I don’t think he knows what to do yet,” Steve settles on. “He’s just trying to get to know his daughter again, I think. They’ll figure it out.” 

Death hums. “People always do.” In this light, her hair looks very red, almost the color of blood. It’s a hue Steve only remembers her having at the very beginning.

“Do you need something?” Steve asks, when Death doesn’t ask anything else. “Did I forget?” 

Death glances over at him, squints, shakes her head. “No. I just came to make sure you were satisfied. Now that I see you are,” and she rises swiftly to her feet, green jacket flapping around her waist. “I’ll be back in 360 days time, on the exact anniversary of the moment the deal was made.”

Steve nods. “I’ll be there.”

“I hope you make the best of it,” Death tells him. “Don’t be late.”

And then she’s gone.

Steve stays at the bench a few more moments, taking in the greenery, the sound of birds chirping in the distance, the hustle and bustle of the forest as the last of winter thaws to spring. Then he pushes himself to his feet, brushing the dirt off the seat of his pants, and heads back towards the cabin.

He won’t come back here again. He has less than a year to live; he has to make the most of every moment, now, and that doesn’t include sitting alone in the forest.

-

It was stupid to make a deal with the Devil in the first place.

“Death,” she called herself, and flicked through the faces everyone Steve loved who had died - his Ma, Peggy, Gabe, Dum-Dum, Terri from next door when Steve was a boy - before settling on Natasha. “Your life for his and a whole extra year for you. It’s an offer you won’t get twice.”

By then, Steve had been searching for a way to bring Tony back for almost five years. It was a ridiculously long period Steve had spent all over the galaxy - visiting neurosurgeons in Nebraska and engineers in Geneva, shamans in Tierra del Fuego and aliens all over the universe, none of whom were able to give him anything useful. Strange had said there was nothing to be done; Bruce had said time travel couldn’t help; Pepper had told him, though tearful eyes, that it wasn’t worth it. Steve had kept going anyway. It had gotten so desperate that Steve was considering another trip through time to snatch the time stone when Death appeared, said she heard Steve was looking for her, and offered him a deal.

He’d accepted. She was right, after all: it was a no-brainer. Steve would have been willing to wield the Gauntlet and kill himself to get Tony back. The year’s delay he now gets after Tony’s resuscitation was just a bonus. 

It’s still rougher than he’s expecting when Tony returns.

He appears at the rebuilt Compound, at the exact same spot where he died. They’ve put a memorial there, in his honor, and that’s where they find him when FRIDAY sets off the perimeter alarms, standing on top of the grey stone plaque and frowning. 

Steve had been in his room at the time. He was one of the first ones on the scene, aside from Bruce. He couldn’t tell anyone what happened, and that might have been worrisome given his poor acting skills, but he was dumbfounded enough seeing Tony that it didn’t matter. He just looked so - _Tony. _He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, health and clean and _alive, _so alive.

“Steve?” he had demanded as soon as he spotted him, backlit by the search lights of the Compound. “What the hell is going on? How long has it been?” 

“You’re back,” Steve had said instead of answering. “You’re here.” 

“Of course, I’m - Bruce?” 

The rest of the Avengers at the compound - just Bruce and Wanda, that night - had taken Tony into the kitchen, sat him down, and done their best to explain what had happened. Or, Bruce and Wanda did, anyway. Steve was struck into silence, and couldn’t bring himself to stop staring at Tony’s face, cataloguing it for wear or tear or discomfort. Tony kept stealing glances at Steve, too, frowning like he noticed Steve’s attentions, but Steve couldn’t help it. Tony was back, and life felt like a dream.

Eventually, the other Avengers were called in, and someone suggested that this might have been a consequence of using the Gauntlet. It was infinitely powerful, after all, and whatever thoughts were going through Tony’s mind as he died could have led to this. Something like _I wish I could see what Morgan would look like in five years, _or _I wish I didn’t have to die, _and somehow the Gauntlet had made it happen. Strange seemed suspicious, shooting Steve questioning glances, but Steve kept his most innocent face on and, eventually, Strange accepted the explanation.

Pepper didn’t take it so easily.

“I just don’t understand,” she kept saying, when Steve and Tony showed up at the cabin at 2 in the morning, Tony desperate to see his daughter. “I don’t understand how this could have happened.”

Happy stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder. He had been here when they arrived, because he lived here, now, too. He and Pepper had yet to officially tie the knot, but they were all but married, and Morgan had dropped the ‘Uncle’ when she spoke to him.

She had been sleeping when they arrived, woken by the commotion and lights downstairs. Tony had moved straight forward, and when he had hugged her, she had squeezed back just as strong. “Dad,” she said. “I missed you.” 

Tony had been crying when he pulled back, even though he tried to hide it. “I missed you, too,” he said, swiping at his cheeks. “Oh, baby, you got so big.”

And now, it’s eight full days since Tony’s return, and nobody is any more clear on what exactly they should be doing. 

Tony’s moved back into the Compound, for now. Steve imagines it would be awkward, trying to move back into the house you bought with your wife, the one she now shares with her new husband. The man she married because she mistakenly thought you were dead. It’s a clusterfuck, and since Steve caused it he thinks he might be partially responsible for fixing it, but there’s not really anything they can do. Pepper and Happy let Morgan come to the compound for the week, taking time off school so she can spend it with her dad. Steve doesn’t see Tony much that first week. None of the Avengers do. Steve doesn’t blame him.

It’s when Morgan has to go back to school that Steve gets to see more of Tony. Still not a lot, because - Steve remembers with a pang - he and Tony weren’t at the best point in their relationship before he died. But he sees him. In the common room, in the kitchens, in the gym. He’s spending a lot of time getting caught up, and a little time - too much, in Steve’s opinion - trying to figure out what happened to him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve overhears Bruce telling him. “It’s done, now.”

“It’s going to matter when someone comes knocking for payment in a few months time,” Tony says grimly. Steve slips away silently before they can spot him.

The next day, Tony shows up at the gym while Steve is training. Steve catches sight of him in the mirror, and stills the punching bag with one hand.

“Hey, Shellhead,” he says, and Tony quirks a smile.

“Hey, Winghead,” he parries. “I see you haven’t changed much.”

Steve smiles, ducking his head. “Well, you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.”

He expects a sharp rebuttal, but doesn’t get one. Instead, when he looks up, he finds Tony looking at him, something astute in his gaze.

“You okay, Steve?” he asks. 

“Psh,” Steve says. “‘Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Tony isn’t fooled. “You look a little sad,” he says. 

“I’m not sad,” Steve says, and means it. “How could I be? We just got you back.” 

A smile tugs at Tony’s lips. “You miss me, Cap?”

“Every day,” Steve says, raw and too honest, and the smile falls from Tony’s lips. “Tony, I’m -“

“Shush,” Tony interrupts, and before Steve can say anything else, steps forward and tugs Steve into his arms.

He’s smaller than Steve - always has been, shorter and more lithe and more compact - but his grip is firm around Steve’s shoulders, and he’s as solid as any real thing. Steve’s touch is tentative, at first, around Tony’s hips, but then something snaps and he feels his fingers digging in. Tony gently guides Steve’s head to his shoulder, and it’s only after Steve rests his forehead on the cotton of Tony’s t-shirt and feels it getting wet under his touch that he realizes he’s crying.

“Sorry -“ he starts, voice thick, and tries to pull away, but Tony just pulls Steve back down.

“Shush,” he says again, and holds Steve through the shakes and sobs until he manages to calm down.

“Thank you,” Steve says finally, when Tony lets him pull back. He wipes at his eyes, glances at himself in the mirror: he looks like a wreck. Irish skin never was suited to bouts of sobbing.

“Don’t mention it,” Tony says. “You know you can always come to me. Right, Winghead? I meant it when I said resentment is corrosive. I do hate it.” 

He waits for Steve to answer. “I know,” Steve agrees finally, and Tony smiles.

“Good. You want to get lunch by chance? I haven’t eaten yet, and I recently revived dead-guy privilege means I can eat Bruce’s leftover soup in the fridge.” 

So they eat lunch. And they chat. And Steve fills Tony in on some of the superficial changes of the last five years - new celebrities, new technology, new slang that he should know for talking to Morgan - and Tony makes faces and jokes and chews with his mouth open. 

“Wow,” he says at one point. “I should have given you more credit for culture shock when you woke up. This is fucking nuts. I actually physically cannot believe they had a Friends reunion.”

Steve shrugs. “Had a lot of reunions,” he says. “It was the grateful spirit, you know? Oh, here’s a good one - they made a Zombieland 2!”

“Shut the _fuck _up,” Tony says, and Steve laughs.

They talk for hours that afternoon, and at the end of it, Steve thinks: _if I were to die right now, it’d be okay. I’d be happy. It’d be worth it._

\- 

Tony and Pepper work out a schedule where Tony gets Morgan on Saturdays and every other Sunday, and Pepper gets her the rest of the time. Which isn’t to say Tony never sees her during the week - he and the rest of the Avengers often come to her Wednesday soccer matches, and sometimes Tony will make the drive to her school to surprise her with Burger King for lunch - but for the most part, he gets her on weekends. Steve quickly learns to segregate that time, to leave it alone for Tony and get his other projects done then, but that still leaves plenty of time for spending with just him.

And they do. Tony seems strangely amendable to Steve’s company, now that he’s actively seeking out a friendship. They eat dinners together, play basketball games, spar and watch old movies while throwing popcorn at the TV. The other Avengers get closer to Tony, too, but they’re busy in a way Steve isn’t. He decided, at the start of this year, to prioritize what’s important, and for him, that’s Tony. It’s always an easy decision.

Tony only teases him about it once. They’re watching a raunchy movie, and Steve is laughing at the jokes, because they might not be for him, but Tony is clearly enjoying them, and Tony says, “Wow, did someone manage to pull the stick out of your ass while I was dead?”

Steve goes quiet and the smile falls off his face. Tony apologizes immediately, but Steve just shakes his head, sets down the popcorn bowl, and says he’s turning in for the night.

He doesn’t sleep, but he must doze, because when he gets up around midnight to go for a run he finds someone has shoved a note under the door. _I’m sorry, _it says, _please don’t ignore me. I don’t want to mess this up again._

And it’s the kick in the pants Steve needs to leave his running shoes on the floor and go find Tony in his lab, where he’s still awake, working on some gear upgrade Steve can’t identify.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, as soon as he sees Steve, but Steve just shakes his head. 

“Don’t be,” he says. “Can we watch the movie down here?”

And they do.

-

Time passes so quickly when you’re happy.

It’s something Steve’s never really experienced before. That sounds depressing, but Steve’s always been struggling through something - his health issues, and then the War, and then the new century, and trying to find Bucky, and, and, and.

Now, Steve doesn’t have anything to worry about other than his own impending death, and that isn’t worth worrying about because he can’t change it. So he doesn’t. He has the most fun of his life for months on end, and every day seems to get shorter. He teaches Tony to make scrambled eggs for Morgan, and cinnamon pancakes for Morgan, and Shepherd’s pie for everyone _but _Morgan, who’s decided to be a vegetarian. Tony shows Steve all the films he’d had left on his list, and a few more that never made it on. The Avengers create a sparring roster and try to stick to it, and Steve gives Tony permission to come to the gym and nag at the Avengers fighting to try to throw them off their game. When they aren’t doing any of that, Steve sits in the corner of Tony’s lab with Dummy, and works on filling a sketchbook with notes and drawings for Tony to find after he’s gone, while Tony burns his fingers on soldering irons and curses a blue streak at FRIDAY.

It’s perfect.

\- 

But all good things come to an end.

By the time the final month rolls around, Steve has almost finished everything he needs done. He’s made a document where he records all of his dying wishes, and he’s made sure FRIDAY is aware of its location, so she can share it with the others after he’s gone. He’s included messages in there for most of the Avengers - except, of course, for Tony, whose sketchbook is almost complete.

Steve takes a week, at the beginning of the month, to visit all the friends he hasn’t seen in too long. He spends five full days with Bucky and Sam, and that’s long enough to see that they’ll be okay without him, when he’s gone. They might not know it yet, but they’ve got something together, something too good to throw away. Steve hugs them goodbye longer than usual, and when he gets home, adds a postscript to both of their letters telling them not to miss their chances.

Thor is off-world, but Steve manages to catch a ride with the Guardians to visit him, and he spends his last day at the new SHIELD headquarters in Montana, under the pretense of giving Fury his resignation. 

He sees Sharon there, too. She smiles at him. He smiles back.

Wanda goes away for a mission a week before Steve leaves, and he makes sure to tell her how proud he is of her before she does. The last weekend Morgan is over, Steve kisses her forehead and tells her she’s going to be the greatest superhero in the world some day, and he’s so grateful that Tony has her to save him. He rides with Tony when he drops her off at the Cabin, so he can see Pepper and Happy one last time. 

There are a few people he missed - Rhodey’s stuck on an extended mission Steve wasn’t expecting, and he never did find a way to catch up with Carol - but for the most part, Steve is satisfied. Things feel wrapped up, as much as they can be, and he knows he’s done what he needs to do.

Except with Tony. No matter how long Steve spends with him, no matter how much time he spends in his presence, it doesn’t feel like enough. It never feels like it’ll be enough. Steve thinks he could spend an eternity with Tony and he wouldn’t be satisfied. Something is missing, and Steve knows what it is, but he still waits until the very last moment to act.

-

The last night of Steve’s life, he ends up in Tony’s suite at the Compound.

“Steve?” Tony calls, from somewhere down the hall. “That you?”

Steve looks down at his watch and sets a timer for five minutes. “Yeah, it’s me,” he calls back. “Where are you?”

“Coming,” Tony yells, and a moment later emerges from the Master bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt, a damp-towel in his hands as he scrubs at his hair. “I just got out of the shower. You want dinner? I got some extra Chinese, thought you might drop by.”

“No,” Steve says, “That’s okay, thanks. I just wanted to see you for a minute.”

Tony brow furrows a bit at Steve’s phrasing. “Yeah? Everything okay? You need to talk about something?”

“No,” Steve says, then, “Well, yes. Maybe. I just -“ Steve takes a deep breath. He should have planned this out. All the thinking he did about the day he was going to die and he never came up with what his last words to Tony should be. 

And now Tony would get something half-baked and inferior.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” Steve says. “I am so, so proud of everything you’ve done, Tony. You always were Earth’s Best Defender, and you always will be.”

“Okay?” Tony frowns. “Seriously, Steve, is something wrong? You're acting weird."

“I just want you to know that I’m proud of you,” Steve says. “And I admired you, even when we fought.”

“Okay, now you’re really scaring me,” Tony says, and Steve almost smiles. _He cares, _he thinks, and then thinks that was a stupid thought to have. Of course Tony cares. He cares about everyone. He’s the most considerate person Steve’s ever met.

“It’s going to be okay, Tony,” Steve says. He glances out the window for a moment. The sun is setting, now - the last sunset Steve will ever see. It’s a bit cloudy tonight, but Steve thinks that makes it better. It’s more real, this way. And the sky looks so lovely, anyway, that orange-blue-purple. Steve would have loved to paint it, if he had the time, but he had more important things to do.

He doesn’t regret a thing.

Well, Steve thinks. Maybe one thing. He looks over Tony.

-

“Why did you let me make the deal?” Steve asks when he goes to meet Death at the place they made the deal. He’s ten minutes early, to be safe, and Death has arrived in plenty of time as well. Meaning Steve can ask the question that’s been plaguing him for the past year. “What do you gain?” 

When Death sighs, she sounds so much like Natasha it makes Steve’s chest ache. “You know, I don’t actually like killing people. It sounds stupid, I know. What else could Death like?” She shakes her head. “I used to enjoy it. But these past few centuries, it’s gotten old. I’m tired of the pain and suffering. Humans - you’re so fragile. It’s been easy for me to plant a few ideas in people’s heads, find a way to keep more of you alive for longer. Ever heard of penicillin? An accident, you thought. But that was me. There have been many happy accidents over the years. And then one very horrible one.” 

Steve tries to understand. “So this is - penance?”

Death considers. “No,” she says carefully. “I don’t owe anyone anything. But I do feel sorry for you. The planet, the universe, you have all had to experience so much suffering these past few years. And you, Steve Rogers, you have felt it more than most. I can’t bring everyone who has ever died back to life. It would tip the scales too much. But I could give you this year.”

Steve swallows hard. “Thank you,” he says finally, and she nods. She offers him her own smile.

“I can say it was my genuine pleasure,” she says. “You have five minutes left, now. I do not think you want to spend them here.”

“No,” Steve agrees.

“Then I will give you one last gift,” Death says, and she snaps her fingers.

Steve opens his eyes in Tony’s living room.

-

Tony’s mouth tastes like soy sauce and coffee.

“Steve,” Tony says, pushing Steve away. It’s not far, not far enough that Steve has time to be disappointed. “Are you okay?" 

“I love you,” Steve says. “You know that, don’t you? You have to know that.”

Tony’s eyes are wide and growing wet. _He knows, _Steve thinks. Of course he knows. He's a genius - he can recognize a goodbye. “Of course I know that,” he says. "Steve, don't -" He cuts himself off, takes a breath. Shakes his head. “You idiot. You have to know I love you, too.”

Ninety seconds left, and Steve uses some of his time to wipe the tear from Tony’s cheek. His cheek is so soft. Steve would love to kiss it. So he does. 

“I know,” Steve murmurs against his cheekbone, and then their lips connect again. This time, Tony tugs Steve in by the back of his neck and moves with him, lips falling open, and everything is warm and wet. Steve feels like he’s falling, but whether he’s falling down or up he can’t tell. He slips one hand under Tony’s shirt and rubs it up along the length of Tony’s spine the way he’s always wanted to. He feels Tony shiver under him the way he’s always wanted to.

“I don't have much time left," Steve says. "So I need you to listen. I've loved you for years, and I always will. And I want you to know that this isn't your fault. And it was worth it."

"Why don't you have time," Tony presses. "Steve, please -"

"I'll always be here when you need me," Steve promises, and Tony's face falls.

"Steve, don't -

"Always," Steve swears.

"Don't do this," Tony says. "You're fine, you're - we can figure it out, whatever it is -"

Ten seconds left. "I love you," Steve says, one more time, and something flickers in Tony's expression. He closes the space between them, presses his lips to Steve's, urgent.

"I love you," Tony says, and he's crying in earnest, now, and Steve wants to tell him not to cry, to never cry, because he should be happy forever and always, but he doesn't have enough time, and Tony says, "Steve, don't -"

And the clock ticks over to zero.

Steve closes his eyes.


	2. Two: Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want a happy ending.

"- do this, whatever is going on, I promise you, we can work it out, it doesn't have to be this way."

Steve opens his eyes.

_I timed it wrong,_ Steve thinks. _It’ll be any moment, now, any -_

But he looks down at his watch and he hasn’t timed it wrong at all. The timer is blinking at him, zero zero zero, and he should be dead right now. He should be gone.

“Steve?” Tony asks. "Are you listening to me?"

Steve glances up at him, his confused face, then down to his wristwatch. Zero, zero, zero, and shouldn’t Steve be dead?

_I will give you one last gift._

Extra time? A few extra minutes? Or - or -

“Steve,” Tony says again, and Steve swears he can hear a voice whisper in his ear:

_You’re welcome._

He whips around but there’s no one there. “Steve,” Tony is still saying, “What’s going on, what’s happening? I need you to talk to me, honey, I need to know what's going on.”

“I - nothing,” Steve says, with dawning realization. “Nothing is happening.”

“What are you -“

“Tony,” Steve says, falling back onto the couch beside Tony and pulling him into his arms. Tony goes easily, no resistance, and Steve tucks his chin over Tony’s head. “Nothing’s happening. We’re going to be okay.”

“We’re -“ Tony wriggles like he wants to pull free, but Steve doesn’t let him, just holds him tighter. "Are you sure?” Tony demands. "You're scaring the shit out of me."

Steve beams up at the ceiling. _Thank you_, he thinks, and hopes that Death, wherever she is, can hear him. “Yes,” he says. “I’m sure.”

Tony wriggles again, and this time Steve lets him pull free so he can look Steve in the eye. “You’re going to be okay,” Tony asks again, confirming, and Steve nods, still beaming like an idiot.

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Tony says, but it’s undermined by the way he plummets face-first into Steve’s chest. Steve catches him. “You gave me a fucking heart attack, you asshole. Why would you do that? What the hell was this about?”

“Sorry,” Steve says. He does feel a little bad about that. “I was mistaken.”

“Mistaken,” Tony snorts. “Damn right you were fucking mistaken -“ And he leans up to press a kiss to Steve’s lips.

It’s chaste and quick and immediately followed by a second kiss, a third. “I love you,” Tony says between kisses, “You fucking asshole, I love you, and you are going to tell me what the fuck this was all about -"

“I love you, too,” Steve replies, and this time when a tear slips free, Steve takes the time to kiss it from Tony’s face. He can do that, now, can kiss all of Tony’s tears away when they fall.

They have time.


	3. Three: Unhappy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want an unhappy ending.

Death attends Steve’s funeral.

He’s a familiar face only to Tony. “I am sorry it had to be this way,” he says, drawing up beside Tony at the coffin. They are the only two mourners left, now; everyone else has trickled off, and now it’s just Tony and a dead body and an eternal being wearing the face of the first person Tony ever loved.

He stares resolutely at the flowers on the coffin, because he doesn’t want to associate Jarvis with this moment.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” Tony says. He knows, abstractly, that he should be grateful - Death gave Steve an extra year, after all, and Tony knows well enough that if she hadn’t offered him anything, he would have found a way to get the infinity stones, to bring Tony back at the cost to himself.

It doesn’t help his heart.

“There must be balance,” Death says. He doesn’t sound particularly happy or sad, just detached, grim.

“I’ve heard that before,” Tony says.

Death sighs.

“You know he asked us not to leave flowers?” Tony says suddenly. “In his will. He had a - a document, all written up, and it was short because, you know Steve, he asked us to donate everything we didn’t want to keep, but it had a funeral section, too. And he only had two requests. That we have his bury him here, at the cabin. And that we don’t leave him flowers. 

Tony shakes his head, blinks back tears. “He didn’t want to kill flowers. He thought it wasn’t worth it, because, well, he’d -“ Tony’s voice cracks. “He’d be dead. So it’s not worth killing something else for him.” 

Tony shakes his head. The top of the coffin is entirely blanketed in white chrysanthemums and a single red rose.

“I can’t believe you let him die,” Tony says, voice harsh. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

Death is quiet for a long moment. “I wish,” he says finally, “That I could say that was an uncommon response.”

Tony huffs, shakes his head. Wipes at his eyes. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he says.

“Probably,” Death agrees. “I understand why you are upset. I wish I could do something to fix it. But my deal was with Steve, and hinged on his satisfaction. And I think, that if all else fails -“ Death considers his words a moment. “I think you can at least know that Steve would be thrilled with how this all turned out. He would be so, so happy that you are here, and you are alive. That is all he ever wanted. His dreams were fulfilled.”

Tony’s vision is so blurry he can’t see. “That’s a shit consolation,” he says.

“Maybe,” Death agrees. “But it’s all I have.”

Tony thinks of the sketchbook lying on his nightstand at home, the one he hasn’t been able to bring himself to open. The cover of the book simply says _to Tony, _and alongside it, there is a mark like someone pressed their lips to the fabric. Tony wonders if Death knows what the messages inside read.

Just then, a little voice calls out from behind them, “Dad!”

Tony wipes his eyes hastily before he turns. He offers Morgan his best smile. “Hey, honey. Sorry, I'm taking so long. You ready to go?”

“Sorry,” Morgan apologizes, because she’s almost eleven now, and she knows what a funeral is. “I tried to wait in the car, but my soccer practice is in forty-five minutes. I can call Happy?”

“No,” Tony says, “No, that’s okay, I’m coming. You say everything you wanted to to Steve?”

Morgan considers, then steps forward to lay her hand on the top of Steve’s coffin. “Thanks for bringing my dad back,” she says. “I’ll miss you.” 

Tony swallows hard. “That’s great, honey,” he says. “Steve’ll love that.”

Morgan smiles at him, then comes over to take his hand in hers. It’s a little hand, smaller and softer than Steve’s, but when she squeezes, it’s just as reassuring. “You gonna be okay, Dad?”

Tony offers her a watery smile. “Of course,” he says. "I've got you, haven't I?"

They walk back to the car, together.


End file.
